


Love & History

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Spoilers, Yuuri can always surprise Viktor, post episode 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8606587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: A camelhair coat, a cab ride, a heart-to-heart talk, some forgiveness,  another surprise.And one lucky cabby.





	

It was colder outside the arena than he had been expecting, and Yuuri shivered in the cool air of early evening. He was thoroughly regretting leaving his hair a tad damp after showering and changing his clothes, especially when a cold wind blew past.

A sudden warmth descended on his shoulders, accompanied by a musky, citrus-toned scent that he would recognize anywhere. He didn't need to look down to know that Viktor's camelhair top coat was now wrapped around him. “Here,” the other man's soft voice sounded. “Can't have you catching cold, can we?”

Yuuri glanced at his coach out of the corner of his eye; Viktor was standing close enough that he could see him even without his glasses. “What about you?” he whispered, his face heating at the other man's proximity. He carefully avoided looking into the blue eyes.

“I'm Russian,” was the reply with a shrug and a smile. “I don't feel the cold the same way.”

“I thought that was just some sort of myth.”

“Maybe it is for some people, but I know I've never had a problem with the cold.” The smile grew into a full-fledged grin. “I'd expect almost anyone who spends half their life on an ice rink to be the same.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and punched one suit-clad shoulder. “Shut up,” he muttered, laughing as Viktor stepped to the curb to hail a cab. As soon as one pulled up he came back and hefted the bag that contained Yuuri's skates and other supplies, setting it on the front passenger floorboard. Yuuri carefully laid the garment bag containing his costume over the front seat before climbing in, sighing and closing his eyes as he settled back. The door shut, blocking out the noise of the city. He barely heard as Viktor gave the cabby the name of their hotel, but then the smell of cologne grew stronger and the weight of an arm settled across his shoulders. He unconsciously leaned into the warmth beside him.

“I'm very proud of you, Yuuri.”

He smiled but didn't lift his head from where it rested on Viktor's shoulder. “Because of my medal?” he asked.

A breath of air stirred the hair at his temples when his coach laughed. “Oddly enough, no.” The arm around Yuuri's shoulders tightened for a moment. “You made me proud because you stood up when most people expected you to fold. You showed the world, and me, exactly who Katsuki Yuuri is, and they were enthralled. _I_ was enthralled.”

“And surprised?”

Viktor laughed. “Yes, and surprised,” he replied. “And not just because of that flip. I don't think I will ever cease to be amazed at your strength.”

At that Yuuri finally raised his head, gazing directly into Viktor's eyes. “My strength?” he asked, incredulous. “The strength of a man who all but had a nervous breakdown in the parking garage?”

“Yes. Especially that.” Viktor crooked a finger under the other man's chin and tilted his head back just slightly. “The strength to cry, and then pick oneself back up and do what needed to be done. You are the strongest man I know, Yuuri.”

Yuuri blushed and pulled away, just enough to remove Viktor's touch from his skin. The Russian seemed to understand and let him go with no questions, even removing the arm he had wrapped around the smaller man's shoulders.

The ride back to the hotel continued in comfortable silence for a while before Yuuri felt his eyelids start to droop. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the past couple of days was starting to catch up to him. He had slipped into a half-doze when he heard Viktor chuckle beside him. “What?” he asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I was just remembering your face at the start of your program,” Viktor replied, a smile audible in his words. “I meant to ask you what you were smiling about, but. . . Well. . .”

He had kissed Yuuri instead. Who, at that moment, blinked his eyes open and turned his head to gaze at his coach. “I was thinking that it had felt good to cry, like a ten ton weight had been removed from my shoulders.” His eyes drifted closed again and a soft smile curved his lips, the same smile he had worn on the ice. “I was also thinking that your face when I started to cry was hilarious.”

“Rude.”

Yuuri laughed. “It was, though. The sheer panic. . .”

“Okay, first of all I was not panicking -”

“You so were.”

“And second of all I would have done anything in that moment to make you feel better,” Viktor went on, reaching out to take Yuuri's hand in his. “You know that, right?”

“Even kiss me?” The words dropped into the conversation like a lead balloon. Yuuri could feel his face heating, but now that the subject had come up he wasn't willing to drop it. “You said 'Should I just kiss you or something?'.”

Viktor looked away for a moment, but the reflection of his face was visible against the night sky outside the cab. “So I did,” was all he said.

Yuuri squeezed the hand holding his, forcing the other man's attention back to him. “I forgive you, you know,” he commented, remembering the moment he had laid his hand on silvery hair in a benediction. “For trying to shatter me like that.”

“I'm sorry I didn't know what to do,” Viktor replied in a trembling voice. “There isn't really any sort of coaching manual, and I'm bound to make more such mistakes.”

“That's okay. I'll forgive you as many times as I need to, as long as you have faith and stand by me,” Yuuri whispered, blinking against the tears that had started to form. “And keep surprising me.”

Viktor felt his eyes widen. “You. . . You want me to keep. . . surprising you?”

“If you expect me to perfect a quadruple flip before the Rostelecom Cup you better give me something in return,” Yuuri answered with a laugh and an emphatic nod.

“Yuuri -”

The sound of the cab's brakes as they came to a stop in front of the hotel was unnaturally loud, startling the pair of them. Yuuri recovered first, sliding across the seat and out of the cab. Viktor watched him take a deep breath of the cold evening air and tug the camelhair coat tighter around his shoulders. Then he turned and leaned back in through the open car door, brown eyes locked with blue.

“Are you coming?” he asked, a mischievous smile curving his lips. “I was hoping for a few more. . . surprises before bedtime.”

Viktor scrambled out of the cab and collected the two bags from the front seat before throwing a handful of money the cabby's way. He didn't even glance at any of the yuan notes, just hurried to walk at Yuuri's side, one hand nestled protectively against the small of the other's back.

The cabby hadn't understood one word of his passengers' conversation, but he certainly appreciated the one hundred and twenty per cent tip.


End file.
